Dance From the Heart
by ciononeme
Summary: An accident, a struggle and a redemption. A Ryan and Sharpay fic, others included. UPDATED with Part 7 February 15
1. Chapter 1

Title: Dance from the Heart (1/?)  
Rating: PG-13  
Genre: Angst, Drama  
Characters: Mostly Sharpay and Ryan, the others show up on occasion.  
Disclaimer: I do not own High School Musical or these characters. I'm just playing around.  
Summary: An accident, a struggle and a redemption.

0o0o0o

In the end, Ryan realized, it wasn't Sharpay's reflexes that had failed her that fateful morning driving on the way to school. If anything they were fast enough to let her yank the wheel hard right with enough perfect timing to make sure the passenger side got the least of the impact, while the driver's side ...

Ryan could still remember the almost comical twist to the car's driver side door wrapped like a steel blanket over his sister's lower half. He couldn't stop staring dumbly at her, wondering how she could possibly lay so still, her slim body sprawled over the seat at such an odd angle. There was something sticky and stinging running down his face and into his eyes.

Someone was screaming something at him about an ambulance and don't move and did he know his name and ohmygodlookatthatpoorgirl ...

The next thing he saw was the ruddy face of a fireman sticking in through the shattered passenger window, not smiling, but talking slowly and carefully to Ryan while all around them the sounds of chaos grew louder. Ryan held his hand up and saw something red but only for a second as a giant calloused paw covered his fingers and held his hand gently, like a father might, all the while talking in a low baritone, forcing Ryan to pay attention to him and to nothing else. "Look at me, buddy. I have you and I'm not letting go, okay?"

"My sister ..."

"We're going to take care of both of you. You just keep looking at me."

The noise around them became deafening. Something disturbingly like a chainsaw roared and Ryan began to shake all over, his hands growing numb, his feet like ice. "My sister!" he screamed over the cacophony.

Panic then, like fire through his veins and Ryan had to get out of there and help Sharpay rightnowrightnow ... right ...

"Look at me!" the fireman commanded bluntly and the last thing Ryan clearly remembered were the man's eyes, an unusual shade of gray-blue, like steel.

A few vague things followed. A sudden burst of movement, something stiff and very painful put around his neck -- a board strapped around his torso and Ryan was flat on his back, staring at the dull ceiling of an ambulance before a paramedic with pity in their eyes plunged a needle into his arm. A little bit of burning under the skin and there was nothing then, except for the sound of his sister's voice, singing along with the song on the radio, right before they started to make that turn ...

0o0o0o

The room he woke up was quietly busy. A few nurses walked silently over white tiles in their sensible shoes while other sat scribbling furiously at the long desk, papers piled high. There was something very annoying wrapped around Ryan's upper arm, squeezing his bicep hard at irritating intervals, beeping as it deflated.

There was a glowing clothespin on his index finger. It was all odd and uncomfortable and weird and ...

Wait. Wait ... something's happened, he realized, a car crash and panic nearly flung Ryan out of the bed. "Sharpay!" he cried out and the walking nurses spun on a dime, running toward him, their hands already pushing his shoulders back against the mattress.

"Hush, sweetheart," one said and Ryan was amazed at how strong she was, holding him down effortlessly. "We're going to get your parents in here right now."

"I want my sister. Her name is Sharpay Evans and she was with me and ..." His voice trailed away as another nurse fussed over his blankets and checked his monitor. "Is she dead?" he asked, barely able to choke the words out. "Please tell me, is my sister dead?"

"I don't think so, honey," the nurse whispered back, not looking at him. "But your parents will tell you everything."

She didn't think so and Ryan burst into grateful tears, wanting to hug her. It was all going to be okay, he thought, a distinct edge of hysteria lurking beneath the surface. Sharpay was alive and everything was going to be fine. Boy, was she going to laugh at him, he thought, chuckling through the sobs. He knew he looked awful and incredibly stupid in this shapeless blue gown while she was probably wearing something pink and fashionable already, knowing her.

His mother's visage appeared around the curtain. Ryan wanted to hug her too, but as he reached out his arms he noticed her face, particularly her complexion.

It was an awful shade of ashen gray and her eyes were so red, Ryan wondered if she'd been in an accident as well. His father was there a second later, and he was just as sick-looking and Ryan was going to kill that nurse if she'd lied to him. Because if she had ...

"Angel," his mother murmured, pushing a bit of hair away from his eyes. "Mommy's here, baby."

He ignored her touch. "What happened to Sharpay?"

His father, normally such a direct man, began to breathe hard, looking everywhere but at his son. "Ryan ..." he started, but stopped, his hands clenching and unclenching.

"She's going to live," Ryan's mother exclaimed suddenly with such hollow cheerfulness, Ryan felt a chill crawl down his body, all the way to his feet. "So don't you worry."

"You're lying."

Ryan's mother shook her head frantically, but whatever color was in her face drained away completely. "I swear to you, Ryan, your sister is alive. It's just ..." She ran a pair of trembling hands through her already mussed hair. "They had to do a little operation."

"A little operation?" Ryan asked, his gorge rising. "What little operation?"

"Nothing that bad," his mother stuttered, her eyes watering. "They took just a little bit. Not everything."

"Dad," Ryan begged his father, his panic rising. "Please ..."

Ryan never remembered his father looking weak ... not ever ... except for that moment. That awful moment. "They amputated your sister's leg. They had no choice." His mouth twisted miserably. "They had to," he muttered again, as if trying to convince himself as much as Ryan. "So that's what they did."

Ryan's mother burst into tears, curling into Vance's embrace while Ryan looked at both of them, his brain simply shutting down. "I guess it's not that bad," he said, hyperventilating. His own legs had turned numb and he laid back, staring at the ceiling, repeating over and over again, "It's really not that bad, is it?"

His mother's sobs -- and his father's averted eyes -- were his only answer.

0o0o0o

tbc...

Reviews are very welcome. Thank you for reading and more to come very soon!


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Dance from the Heart (2/?)  
Rating: PG-13  
Genre: Angst, Drama  
Characters: Mostly Sharpay and Ryan, the others show up on occasion.  
Disclaimer: I do not own High School Musical or these characters. I'm just playing around.  
Summary: An accident, a struggle and redemption.

0o0o

Sharpay was still in ICU when Ryan slipped out of his bed, pulling his IV pole behind him. An orderly caught him almost right away, but once Ryan explained, he simply escorted him to the unit, making sure his lines didn't tangle.

The nurse on duty ushered Ryan inside, holding up five fingers while nodding at the clock. Five minutes was all he would get but it was better than nothing. His heart froze when he saw his sister, lying directly in front of the nurses station. She looked so tiny and lost in the huge hospital bed, surrounded by wires and tubes, her long, gorgeous hair stringy even while carefully brushed back in a loose ponytail. Her face was still bruised, but that wasn't the worst of it.

Ryan's throat tightened when he saw the outline of the sheet below her left knee lying flat against the mattress. He quickly looked up to Sharpay's face instead. "Hey," he whispered and was heartened to see her smile weakly at him.

"Hey." She held up her arms to him and he bent down into her embrace, holding her as tightly as he dared. "I was worried about you," she said with uncharacteristic calmness. She squeezed his forearm. "But you don't look any worse than usual."

A little joke and Ryan chuckled gamely. He could still _sense_ that bit of sheet covering a missing _something_ and he shifted uncomfortably, not knowing what to say.

Frowning, Sharpay shook her head at him. "It is what it is," she said thickly, whatever little color there was left in her cheeks draining away. "There's no point in thinking about it." She shrugged, her mouth trembling. "It's better than being dead. They said I died on the table, you know, then came back."

Ryan inhaled sharply. "Mom and Dad didn't tell me that."

"Mom and Dad are idiots," she snapped. "They're already looking at me like I'm some sort of freak."

"Oh, no ... I don't think ..." Ryan interjected, but the nurse cut him off with a touch to his shoulder. He sighed before bending to embrace Sharpay again. "I love you, sis. You know that, right?"

"Of course you do," she replied, trying to sound like her old self, but Ryan could tell her heart wasn't in it. She just looked so _tired_ and the nurse assigned to her began to hover closely. "Come back later?"

"If I can sneak past the castle guards," he said, glancing around at the efficient staff. He blew her another kiss. "See you real soon."

"Right," she said, before turning her head and closing her eyes.

It wasn't until he was in the elevator, its automatic doors shutting the world out, that Ryan allowed himself to cry, sobbing until the light for his floor rang the doors open again.

0o0o0o

Sharpay was out of ICU and in a regular room by the next morning, sitting up in a wheelchair by the window when Ryan came to visit. There was no avoiding seeing her heavily bandaged leg, the second half of it missing just below the knee. It was neither as horrible or shocking-looking as Ryan feared it might be, like Sharpay had said, it merely _was_. Besides, she was still his sister, she was still alive and for these two things Ryan was far too grateful to let something like this bother him in any permanent way.

To his eyes, she was still the most beautiful sight in the world.

He sat next to her, quietly watching as she stared out the window, tracing invisible patterns on the glass with her finger. "They let me wash my hair today," she said briefly, not looking at him. "Well, one of them did it and the shampoo was awful, stinky stuff, but I guess it's better than nothing."

"I'll bring your shampoo with me when I come back."

"They're letting you out of Alcatraz?" She laughed shortly, without smiling. "Lucky you. I could be stuck her for another month or two."

"I heard. They have to make ..." He paused, hesitating. "Make your ... you know ..."

Sharpay rolled her eyes at him. "It's called a prosthesis, Ryan. They stopped using peg legs a couple of centuries ago." She blew out a long breath. "Please don't turn into another asshole like Mom and Dad are being, okay? Please? I have to have someone I can talk to who isn't going to freak out about every little thing."

Taken aback, Ryan stared at the floor. "I'm sorry, Shar."

She shrugged carelessly. "If I can deal with this, you people have no excuse not to."

There was something about her tone that made Ryan wonder if she was dealing with things as calmly as she seemed to, but he decided not to question it. "Right," he said, squaring himself up and smiling at her. "So what can I get you today? Magazines, candy ... a pink wheelchair? Your wish is my command."

At this, she gave him a genuine grin. "I wish. If you can get me a pink wheelchair you'll be the best brother in the whole world. I also want a Big Mac, no fries and a strawberry shake. Oh, and some moisturizer that doesn't smell like ass. That would be fabulous."

He bowed to her. "One moisturizer minus the ass, one Big Mac minus the fries and a chariot that's worthy. I'll be back," he said, giving her a quick kiss before leaving. Glancing back, he studied her for a long moment, noting that even wearing that shapeless blue hospital gown, without a touch of makeup and practically covered in bruises, she was still the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

As well as the strongest and for the first time since the accident Ryan felt hopeful that maybe, someday, they'd be able to put this all in the past.

Maybe.

0o0o0o

Ryan was released a few days later with a pile of appointments for physical therapy and enough painkillers to put down a horse. His father pulled the family minivan around and Ryan suddenly began hyperventilating at the thought of getting back in a car ... any car. Stop being so stupid, he thought, but he purposefully avoided the passenger seat, letting his mother take it while he strapped himself in the minivan's far back, nervously staring at the hospital's multiple buildings.

Sharpay had been moved to the nursing home section, where she'd have the easiest access to the physical therapists and orthopedic specialists. She was going to be in there for a while the doctor warned, with more surgeries always a possibility. It took Ryan's parents a lot of convincing to get him to come back home with them, but what they didn't know is that he planned on spending the rest of his time shuttling between school and the hospital, no matter how much mileage would have to be put on their chauffeured cars.

When he'd left that morning, Sharpay was already doing some upper body lifting with small weights in the gym, sitting prettily in a bright pink wheelchair Ryan snatched off of some buried eBay listing, paying nearly double to have it delivered the previous afternoon by overnight courier. It was worth every penny to see Sharpay brighten at the sight of it and he made a mental note to buy her more fun things as soon as possible.

Clothes especially as she'd finally taken to trying to turn the hospital gowns into something more stylish using bits of crafting supplies stolen from the pediatric therapy section with help from some of the little patients who had a great giggling time strategically gluing sparkles and sequins on Sharpay's gown of the day. She even created a jaunty beret out of a surgical cap and an entire bottle of glitter, making the orderlies purse their lips at her, while they swept up the shiny detritus left everywhere in her wake.

Even her doctor had gotten into the spirit, finding a long roll of hot pink surgical wrap for use on her stump, which amused everyone in the section to no end. "It's vet wrap," he whispered to Ryan when Sharpay wasn't looking, "... but don't tell her that, please. It's the only one that comes in different colors."

He didn't tell her and it hurt like hell to leave her behind, watching her try to smile as he hugged her with the discharge papers in his hand, was perhaps the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. I'm going to miss her, Ryan thought, watching the hospital fade in the distance as they drove away.

But he'd be back, right after school, every day, until she came home. No matter how long that took.

0o0o0o

tbc..

Reviews are appreciated, thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Dance from the Heart (3/?)  
Rating: PG-13  
Genre: Angst, Drama  
Characters: Mostly Sharpay and Ryan, the others show up on occasion.  
Disclaimer: I do not own High School Musical or these characters. I'm just playing around.  
Summary: An accident, a struggle and redemption.

0o0o0o

When Ryan returned to East High that Monday, nervously clutching his schoolbag, he was shocked at the reception he received. A huge hand-painted banner reading "WELCOME BACK, RYAN" was draped over the auditorium entrance in the first floor hallway and below it were waiting what looked like the entire school cheering as he walked in, leaving him speechless.

Hard as it was not to cry, it was even harder to know that Sharpay wasn't there with him and Ryan had to swallow back the tears for them both.

Chad was the first to run up and hug him, a little too hard, correcting himself with a quick apology, before waving his teammates back who looked ready to tackle Ryan to the ground out of exuberant good will. "Hold up, guys, he's still banged up."

"It's so good to see you," a few of the girls gushed at once, as they rubbed his shoulders and back affectionately. "We missed you. What about Sharpay? She's coming back isn't she?"

Such a barrage of questions and well-wishes and Ryan could only nod and shrug in turn, his tongue and brain refusing to work correctly. Finally, sensing his distress, Troy Bolton waved everyone away. "Okay, guys, let's give him some room. We don't want to put him back in the hospital, do we?"

Everyone fell back and eventually the bell rang, immediately bringing natural order to the school day. "Thanks," Ryan mumbled to Troy, who put an arm around his shoulder and steered him away from the crowd. "I'm a little overwhelmed."

"I believe it." Troy said kindly. He paused. "How _is_ Sharpay? We've all heard different things but I didn't want to speculate. They said she was hurt really bad."

"Yeah, kinda bad," Ryan breathed. He clutched his messenger bag closer. "But she's alive and she's going to be okay once they fix her up a little more. It's ... hard ... losing a limb. It's hard on everyone, especially because there are so many things I ... we ... can't help her with. She has to do so much on her own."

Troy's face fell. "That sucks. I'm so sorry."

"Sharpay's strong," Ryan protested, waving at a few more well-wishers who were hanging over the stairs, calling his name. "If anyone can come out of this on top, she can."

"That I believe," Troy agreed, smiling as Gabriella bounced up and embraced Ryan. "And here's your biggest cheerleader. She still has poster paint on her fingers."

"Oh, hush," Gabriella said, giving Troy a gentle smack on the arm. She smiled brightly at Ryan. "How are you?"

"Better, thanks."

"And Sharpay?"

Ryan sighed. He saw he was going to be asked this a lot today. Might as well get used to it, even if answering that question accurately was nearly impossible. "She's going to get better, probably sooner than later. It's going to take a little while, that's all."

"You have no idea how much we miss her," Gabriella exclaimed. "The school is so not the same without her. It's like we've turned from a color movie into black and white. We're so ... " She paused as if searching for the right word. "Boring," she whispered finally with a wink.

Ryan laughed. "I'll have to tell her that. I'm sure she'll agree."

The bell signaling the start of classes rang and the three friends ran to their respective homerooms. The teacher greeted Ryan affectionately, then got straight to business, handing him three weeks worth of assignments and a list of make-up tests he'd have to take. Grimacing, he almost wished he were back in his hospital bed, but he simply stuffed the pile into his bag and began his day, already bored and wishing he could call Sharpay, impossible, as cel phones were banned in the hospital.

For the rest of the day he occupied himself on his laptop, sneaking off to the various hotspots on campus and surfing the auction and sales sites for things to buy for Sharpay, as well as sending her a stream of silly emails. It kept his mind off of other things and the thought of cheering her up made his day almost bearable. Around midday he looked at his watch and counted off the hours left until the limo would come to get him and bring him back to the hospital, where he'd try to arrange an overnight stay, as much as that would annoy his parents. He'd already packed an extra shirt, clean underwear and fashion be damned, it was good enough.

The day dragged on, until the final bell rang and Ryan practically ran to the parking area where, thank God, the limo was already waiting. This was his favorite driver, Jack, and Ryan knew he could rely on him for speed and discretion, especially where his parents were concerned. He'd already tried to tip him in advance, but was waved off, which made Ryan vow to give the man a Christmas bonus he'd never forget even if he had to hand-deliver it to his house.

"The GPS is all charged up," Jack yelled to the back of the car. "I've got one traffic-free nifty shortcut coming your way."

"You're the best," Ryan said, leaning back and putting his iPod earplugs in. He set the player on "shuffle" and right away one of Sharpay's "secret" favorites came up, a song so old as to be petrified, but it was pretty and besides, the Bee Gees were the masters of making modern dance music back in the day. This one was softer and Ryan closed his eyes, singing along softly with the chorus. "_Run to me, whenever you're lonely, run to me when you need a shoulder ..."_

The car rolled along at a hard clip along somewhat bumpy side roads and Ryan was thankful for every passing mile, thinking of Sharpay.

"_So darling, you run to me."_

0o0o0o

It took some effort but Ryan eventually found his sister outside of the nursing home gym, in one of the therapy rooms, sitting on an exam table, her face twisted with anger and pain. A jolt of fear ran through him, but he merely put down his schoolbag and touched Sharpay's shoulder.

With a tearful gesture of annoyance, she shrugged him off. "It's horrible, Ryan. It's so horrible I can't even ... I can't ..." She burst into tears, the first real ones he'd seen since the accident.

"What happened?"

"It hurts. My missing leg hurts," she cried. "There's nothing there and it hurts so badly I can't stand it. The thing they made as a leg for me is stupid and it doesn't fit right and I can't even stand on it. It's terrible, it's nothing like they said it would be. The the doctor thinks I might have to get another operation if the pain doesn't go away." She covered her face with her hands and leaned into his shoulder, shaking with agony.

A therapist peeked in and Ryan twisted around to glare at him, still holding onto Sharpay. "What's wrong with her? Why is she hurting so badly?"

"Phantom limb pain," the therapist explained calmly. He picked up Sharpay's thick chart and flipped through it toward the end. "Very common, unfortunately. We're going to try some pain management therapies on it, to see if we can get it to subside. It depends on the person which ones are the most effective. Sometimes a simple massage will do the trick, other times we have to do some visualization therapy, to mentally decrease the pain."

Visualization. Ryan and Sharpay had been doing that for years as part of their preparation for performing. "Shar, listen to me," Ryan whispered in her ear. "Let's try to think it away. Like we do before a show."

"Don't be stupid, Ryan," Sharpay sobbed. "This isn't a show. This _hurts_."

"I know. But it can't hurt to try, can it? Come on, breathe with me," he cajoled, gently encouraging her to sit up straight and look him in the eye. "Inhale ..."

She made a face at him, but finally acquiesced, taking one shaky breath, then another. "It's not working," she complained, but already, she was sounding a bit calmer.

"Slowly exhale," he instructed, undeterred. He took her hands and held them loosely, massaging her fingers. "You know the drill, five, three, five. Close your eyes and we'll do it together. Think about all the pain leaving your body with every breath. Relax and listen."

The therapist watched approvingly as Ryan continued to instruct Sharpay through the breathing, telling her to imagine they were on their lounges at Lava Springs. They were floating in the huge pool, side by side, the sun shining in a perfectly clear blue sky. There was an iced tea waiting for her on the deck, served by her handsome cabana boy and later on, they'd sit in the outdoor lounge and sing some karaoke together, under the stars. It's an amazing song, with lots of high notes and the crowd is wowed, straight to the very end where they receive a loud standing ovation.

Slowly, a smile broke out over Sharpay's face. "I can hear it. Everyone's clapping," she breathed, her eyes blissfully closed.

"Everyone's clapping," Ryan agreed, reaching up and stroking the side of her face. "And it's all for you."

One eye cracked open. "I thought it was a duet."

Ryan shrugged. "You're the star, Shar."

"As usual," she preened, before taking a deep, cleansing breath. "God, I think that worked."

"Good," Ryan said, trying not to let his anxiety show. This episode had nearly scared him to death. "I'm glad."

The therapist grinned at Ryan from the doorway. "Want a job?" he asked, half-kiddingly. "I got lots of other patients out there."

"No, thanks," replied Ryan, his entire body still trembling slightly. "I'm not built for the medical field."

"He's too modest," Sharpay answered, with a welcome haughtiness. She gingerly stretched out both legs with a pleased noise. "Definitely better."

She threw her arms around Ryan in thanks and he hugged back, hard, wondering what else might be in store for them.

It was as if a secure rug had been pulled out from beneath him and he made a mental vow to be more prepared for what might happen next. He had to be strong for Sharpay; it wasn't fair that she'd be facing this without a partner, just as he faced audiences with her, armed with nothing more than practice and a prayer, he'd go through this with her, standing by her until the end.

He just wondered when that end would come.

0o0o0o

tbc ...

Thanks to everyone for the reviews so far. I appreciate them and am always glad to hear from you!


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Dance from the Heart (4/?)

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Angst, Drama

Characters: Mostly Sharpay and Ryan, the others show up on occasion.

Disclaimer: I do not own High School Musical or these characters. I'm just playing around.

Summary: An accident, a struggle and redemption.

0o0o0o

The meal was possibly the fanciest one the hospital had ever seen inside its sterile doors. Ryan had brought over the Evan's best picnic set along with Sharpay's favorite Chinese take-out, creating a spread of fine china and dim sum over the end of her bed with a mini-juice bar on her tray table, crystal glasses at the ready.

Sharpay delicately speared a dumpling as Ryan poured her another sparkling water. "Dad called," she said, taking a sip of her drink. "He's going to Singapore until Christmas."

"Yeah, I heard," Ryan said, playing with his food. He'd had a huge argument with his father the night before on that very subject. He'd accused Vance of running away from something he couldn't fix or control with his money and his father had stared Ryan down with fury in his eyes but it hadn't stopped him from leaving the next morning on the first flight out.

Sharpay shrugged. "It's not much different than having him here." She poked at her food with a pair of porcelain chopsticks, one more of Ryan's surprise gifts. "Mom told me today that she's started group therapy, to help her deal with the trauma."

Ryan fought hard not to roll his eyes. "Oh, god ..."

"They tried to give me a therapist here and I told them to go give it to someone who needs it." Sharpay's mouth twisted derisively as she blindly stabbed at her plate, the sticks going tick-tick-chick against the china. "It's like everyone's expecting me to go crazy or something. It's like they think I can't deal with things." Eyes flashing, she looked searchingly at Ryan. "You know I can deal with this, right?"

"You're the strongest person I know," Ryan replied carefully. He looked down at his plate, not really seeing anything. "But no one would think less of you if you needed someone to talk to. It's not like losing the Star Dazzle award. This is ... this changes your whole life, Shar. It's not easy and you don't have to pretend to be strong when you're not feeling that way."

Her voice turned cold. "I don't need therapy. I'm fine." Shakily, she pushed her plate away. "I'm not hungry anymore. Could you get rid of this?"

Quickly, he gathered the plates, scraping them clean before tossing them haphazardly back in the basket. "Okay." He stole a glance at her, watching as she struggled to push herself back onto the bed, her balance thrown off by the lack of leverage from her left leg. For a second he debated helping her, but thought better of it. The therapists had pulled Ryan aside and warned him -- the more she did on her own, the better off she'd be in the long run.

Still, it was hard watching her struggle, seeing how tired she looked from such a minor activity. She flopped back onto her pillows, gasping for air, staring at the ceiling. "Okay, this sucks. Is that what I'm supposed to be admitting right about now?"

"I don't know. You have to be honest about how you feel. This _does_ suck, there's no two ways about it." Ryan settled down into his chair. It was an overnight fold-out, kindly provided for him by one of the orderlies who'd looked after him during his own stay. He took up the remote and began flipping channels aimlessly, stopping on _Dancing With the Stars_. "Hey, the season's not over yet. We can still catch the end."

A strange look came over Sharpay's face as the dancers twirled on the screen above her. "Turn it off," she ordered, her face suddenly pale.

Ryan looked at her curiously. This was one of their favorite shows. She never let him even go to the bathroom while it was on except during commercials. "But ..."

"I asked you to turn it off." An edge of hysteria to her voice and Ryan quickly switched the channel to baseball. "Thank you," she muttered, sounding oddly breathless.

"Sure, sis." He looked worriedly at her. She was breathing hard, biting back tears and he couldn't figure out exactly why. It could be one of a hundred things; the rigors of physical therapy, the pain of the injury ... being stuck in this miserable place. He was trying his best to make things easier for her but there was only so much he could practically do.

The Diamondbacks scored a run and he settled back to watch the game, keeping one eye on Sharpay who slowly began to relax and drift off to sleep. At least baseball would bore her into a good nap, he thought, turning the volume down.

Eventually, he passed out into a fitful sleep, filled with disturbing dreams of him and Sharpay dancing, both of them out-of-sync, with him missing all the steps.

0o0o0o

School went by as slowly as ever, lightened a little by lunching with the Wildcats who were amusing for the most part, when they weren't '_accidentally_' shooting ketchup out of the packets at his expensive polo shirts. Chad in particular made him laugh, talking loudly through a mouthful of food, gesticulating wildly with a juice in one hand and a fork in the other.

Ryan never had any idea what he was so worked up about all the time -- the cheeks full of mashed potatoes would have necessitated a translator, anyway -- but that didn't matter. The team's constant state of happy excitement distracted him and when it became too much, there was always the geek table with their odd, quiet discussions that he never had to join; Gabriella made sure of that.

It was all well and good enough, until Gabriella turned to him and asked "Will Sharpay be back before the Harvest Dance?"

Ryan thought for a moment. The Harvest Dance was a casual school tradition, not as fraught as the yearly musical, but as always, he and Sharpay took it seriously enough, putting all their hardest moves into a single dance for the event, turning an ordinary school social into a 'must-see' event, with one show-stopping number. "When is that?" he asked, fumbling for his handheld and scrolling through its electronic calendar.

"Six weeks," another girl piped in. "This year's theme is "renewal". Something about celebrating fall as a precursor to life instead of ..." She paused at the confused look on Ryan's face. "I think they're just trying to make fall cool. Or something like that."

Gabriella bit her lip, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "Never mind, Ryan. Forget I mentioned it. You and Sharpay have so many other important things on your mind besides a silly dance."

"A silly dance?" Ryan drew himself up, feeling oddly offended. In his own way he was as proud as Sharpay of what they'd accomplished together on East High's many stages and wasn't very fond of all those hours -- years -- of work being derided, even as gently as he knew Gabriella meant it. With a shrug, he gathered his tray and bag. "Sharpay's being scheduled for release in another three weeks, pending her last few fittings. I don't see why we won't be at the dance."

Everyone at the table brightened except Gabriella who looked abashed and embarrassed at the same time. "That's great, Ryan! Oh my God, we can't wait to see you both there."

"With that, I bid you all a good afternoon," he said with a short tip of his hat. He walked off hurriedly, still bristling and not sure why.

Until it hit him.

There would be no killer number for him and Sharpay this year at the Harvest Dance. There would be no more dance numbers of any kind, for any school event; he wasn't even sure she could do a slow waltz on her new leg.

The shock of this revelation nearly made Ryan drop his tray. A cold chill ran down his spine as he suddenly remembered Sharpay's miserable reaction to '_Dancing With the Stars_' and damn it to hell, how could he have possibly been so blind? So incredibly blind and stupid?

Oh, God ...

Tossing the untouched remains of his lunch in the trash, Ryan hit the speed-dial for his chauffeur. "Jack, how soon can you be here?" he asked hurriedly, opening a side door with his shoulder, pushing his way to the empty campus outside. He still had three more classes left but as far as he was concerned the day was over. "Yeah, I know it's early but I really need to get to the hospital pronto. Okay. You can? That would be great. I'll be waiting for you."

Flipping the phone shut, he strode to the parking area on shaking legs. True to his word, Jack pulled up less than fifteen minutes later and Ryan threw himself in the back, holding his head in his hands the entire ride. He didn't remember running up to Sharpay's room, but he'd never forget the look on her face when she saw him, their twin telepathy never stronger.

Her eyes were already ringed with red, sorrowful, as if she _knew_. "It just hit you, didn't it?" she said quietly, her mouth trembling.

That made the dam break and Ryan fell into her arms, sobbing as she held on tightly, silent tears slipping down, her shaking fingers running through his hair. She shouldn't be the one that comforted him, he thought wildly, unable to make it stop -- to make it _better_.

To make his sister whole again, which was impossible.

To make her spirit whole again, which seemed as far out of reach as the sun.

0o0o0o

tbc ...

Thanks to everyone who is following this fic and especially those who are commenting. Thank you for your generous words!


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Dance from the Heart (5/?)  
Rating: PG-13  
Genre: Angst, Drama  
Characters: Mostly Sharpay and Ryan, the others show up on occasion.  
Disclaimer: I do not own High School Musical or these characters. I'm just playing around.  
Summary: An accident, a struggle and redemption.

_"I__'m sailing on this terrible ocean  
I've come for myself to retrieve.  
Too long have I been feeling like Lear's children ..."_

0o0o0o

When Troy found Gabriella she was in the sports field, sitting on the bleachers and staring aimlessly into space. He squeezed in close beside her, nudging her with his shoulder. "What's up, Gloomy Gus?

"Oh, hey," she replied distractedly. She leaned in to receive his kiss with a thin smile before going back to silently staring.

Troy squinted at her. "You're going to give a guy a complex, you know that?"

"Hmm?" She shook herself a little. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I was ... " She paused with a sigh, the gloom settling in again. "I was just thinking about how stupid I am and how I shouldn't be let out of the house in the morning in case I never stop being stupid."

"Uh-oh. Sounds serious." He blinked with surprise. "If it makes you feel any better you're still the smartest person I know."

"Really? Does a smart person upset someone who's sister just had a devastating injury by asking them ..." Her voice took on an obnoxiously high octave, "So are you and Sharpay going to the dance, Ryan? Oh, never mind, Ryan, I'm sure you two have more important things to think about than dancing, besides the fact that's what you both love more than just about anything in the whole world and you'll probably never do it again. Dancing's silly!" Gabriella winced hard, slapping her palms against her forehead. "What was I _thinking_, Troy?

Troy winced along with her. "Gah. Okay, that's kinda bad, but honestly, Gab, I'm sure he knew you didn't mean anything by it. You just wanted to talk about normal stuff and you ... you know ... you forgot. It happens in situations like this. Something really terrible happens and you don't want to talk about that all day but in trying to avoid it, you sometimes step in it. Ryan knows you weren't being mean."

"You should have seen his face. It's like he just realized that he and Sharpay were never going to dance as a team again."

Sadly, Troy lowered his eyes. "Maybe he did."

"Oh God," Gabriella moaned, clutching at her hair. "Don't say that!"

He snuck an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "I'm sorry, babe. But look at it this way, there's no reason that Sharpay can't dance again one day. I know a guy who plays a helluva game of hoops and he has only one leg. They have the most amazing hardware these days substituting for legs and arms, even hands that work like real ones. And you know she's going to get the very best of what's out there. She might not dance exactly like she used to but I know she'll still be doing awesome things on-stage, someday."

Leaning her head on his shoulder, Gabriella considered his words. "That's true. I suppose there's nothing holding her back." A thoughtful pause. "I wonder if Ryan knows that. I wonder if _she _knows that."

"Sure," Troy shrugged. "Why not? If anything, Sharpay is determined." He laughed at the many memories of the Evan's sister refusal to accept anything less than everything and anything she wanted. With a grin, he leaned his cheek against Gabriella's soft hair. "She'll be fine. I'm sure of it."

Gabriella didn't look entirely convinced, but she nodded nonetheless. "I guess you're right."

"That's my girl," Troy enthused, tilting her chin up for another lingering kiss. He grinned against her lips. "It's all going to be fine, trust me."

Gabriella tried to smile back, but it wasn't as easy as she would have liked.

0o0o0o

The momentous day came faster than Ryan would have dreamed possible, three weeks flying by at warp speed. Sharpay was coming home that afternoon and he ran himself ragged trying to get everything in order for her return, even though there wasn't all that much to do that the servants hadn't taken care of days before.

He fretted endlessly over the state of her room (flawless), what was being served for lunch (her favorites) and everything else beside. It was a greeting fit for a head of state and Ryan again tried not to be furious at his father for not being there even if his only excuse for being away was that his frequent absences were the sole reason they lived in such fine estate.

Their mother had made a few half-hearted stabs at being supportive but burst into tears and claimed deep depression so often, Ryan was more glad than not she'd taken off to an "emergency" appointment with one of her many therapists. If anything Sharpay had been right about their parents and their lack of emotional strength -- her insight, as usual, so much sharper than his. 

Not that any of that mattered. Sharpay was coming home ... that's all Ryan cared about.

He'd offered to go pick her up at the hospital but she'd refused, telling him she had some "business" to take care of, but Ryan knew from the packages she had delivered to the nursing home, filled with gifts of every kind, she'd been spending the day handing out presents to her caregivers and fellow patients and didn't want Ryan to know about it. Her sentimental streak was one of the worst-kept secrets on the planet but it was a delusion that Ryan was willing to let her keep, if it made her happy.

Pacing the mansion floors with nervous energy, he started at every sound coming in from the outside. "It's just Gene with the flower delivery," one of the maids soothed, patting his shoulder. "You'll know when it's her."

Ryan laughed uncomfortably and went right back to his vigil. He was on the verge of deep breathing exercises when the door was flung open, Sharpay standing in the doorway, holding a small pot of wilted violets in one hand and her beloved dog Boi in the other. Ryan felt the tears well in his eyes but he held them back, opting instead to run up and hug her hard, so hard Boi let out a high-pitched yelp. 

"Ryan!" Sharpay chastised, but her eyes were kind. 

"Sorry," Ryan apologized immediately before hugging her again. He felt elated and breathless and better than he had since the accident. "I'm so glad to have you home."

Sharpay smiled tightly and gingerly bent to put Boi down. "It's good to be home," she said, but in a way that was oddly subdued. She looked around, her throat working as she swallowed. "Things look about the same."

Ryan glanced around, following her line of view. "Yeah, I guess," he shrugged. "Mom hasn't been redecorating as much as usual."

"Very traumatic, I'm sure," Sharpay said dully. She hooked her hand through Ryan's arm and walked with surprising grace through the foyer. He offered to take the funny little plastic pot of half-dead flowers from her hand but Sharpay shook her head. "I'll hold onto these, thanks."

"Oh, sure." Ryan helped her to the couch, holding onto her arm as she struggled to sit down without toppling over. Once she was upright, there wasn't a problem, Ryan noticed, but when she was seated or lying down, things became much more complicated. He was grateful when their driver Jack discreetly came in the room and handed him Sharpay's cane and left without a word. 

It subdued shade of metallic gray, picked as to be neutral, or so Sharpay claimed and slid ingeniously into itself until it could be tucked into her bag, which was fine as she only used it for leverage, to navigate the seemingly simple tasks of sitting, then rising. Suddenly, Ryan thought about all the times Sharpay threw herself so easily on the couch, sitting with her legs tucked beneath her, talking on the phone, watching television, kicking him playfully. Life was so simple then, so _easy _and ...

Swallowing hard, he pushed those thoughts away. "Can I get you anything?"

Sharpay shook her head slowly, staring out over the room as if still trying to orient herself. Her hands still held onto the pot of violets, white-knuckled fingers wrapped tightly around the dingy brown plastic. "I'm good. Is Mom going to be home soon?"

"Uh, yeah. Well, later, she'll be home. She's a little overwhelmed right now." Ryan blew out a tired breath. He tried to put on a more cheerful attitude. "I ordered your favorite lunch from Dean & Deluca." He sat down beside her and nudged her shoulder. "Panini, extra crispy."

Sharpy smiled weakly. "That'll be an improvement over the food I've been eating." She nudged him back. "Can I have yours too?"

"Sure." He nodded at the plant in her hand. "By the way, what's that? It's ... " He paused, searching for the right word. "It's cute."

Sharpay shrugged, but her mouth twitched at the corners. "It's a gift from another patient. I don't think you knew Marnie."

Ryan looked at her thoughtfully. "Marnie? I didn't meet her? Jeez, I've spent so much time there I thought I met everyone."

"She was only in the gym during non-visitor hours." Sharpay shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Double amputee, above-the-knee. She'd contracted some weird disease. They, uh, kept having to take things, one after the other. It was pretty hardcore."

Ryan winced. "Christ ..."

Sharpay shook her head, as if trying to clear away the memory. "Never mind." She took a deep breath and plastered on her brightest smile. "So where's my lunch? And what did you buy me today? I want presents." 

"Oh, speaking of presents ..." Ryan rose and held out his hand to Sharpay, who took it with a confused expression. He gently pried the violets from her hand and put them on the mantleplace before leading her through the house to the back, then to the garage. Once they were in the doorway, he instructed her to cover her eyes before flicking the garage light on. "Viola!" he said with a flourish, as she uncovered her eyes.

"Wow," she said, seeing a brand new bright pink Ferrari 360 Spider sitting in the dull light of the garage, shining like a star. She seemed stunned for a long moment. "Wow."

Ryan didn't even try to conceal his glee. "It's from Mom and Dad, your coming home gift. What do you think? Isn't it amazing? Isn't it the only car anyone could ever possible want? Isn't it _fabulous_?"

"Yeah," she said hesitantly. She ran a cautious hand over the hood. "I'm really surprised." She stepped back and peered at the car and Ryan was surprised to see the color drain from her face at the sight of something on the car, but he chalked it up to the car itself being possibly the most incredible present ever. A 360 _Spider_, in mind-blowing metallic pink; it was seriously the most over the top thing either one of them had ever been given. "Okay, I've seen enough," she said, suddenly taking his arm and pulling him out of the garage. "I'm starving. And if that panini isn't crispy anymore ..."

He looked at her in askance. "But ... the car ..."

"It's great," she said flatly. "Let's go." 

Gamely, he followed her out, with a searching glance back at the car. Mystified, he wondered what she didn't like about it. Maybe it was too soon to think about driving again, he thought. Or maybe she wasn't in love with the color, but that didn't seem possible, it was beautiful beyond words or maybe ...

Ryan was still confused as they headed toward the kitchen, never noticing the clear markings for "_Handicapped_" that lined the car's shiny new plates.

0o0o0o

tbc ...

Reviews are treasured. Thank you for reading. 


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Dance from the Heart (6/?)

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Angst, Drama

Characters: Mostly Sharpay and Ryan, the others show up on occasion.

Disclaimer: I do not own High School Musical or these characters. I'm just playing around.

Summary: An accident, a struggle and redemption.

0o0o0o

Sharpay took the usual amount of time with her hair that morning, Ryan noted. One hour and forty minutes, a long time for anyone else, par for the course for Sharpay. There was washing, conditioning, blowing straight before putting in the hot curlers before starting all over again if the process displeased her in any way as it did nine times out of ten.

No ... there was no difference there.

Her clothes were perfection, as usual. Designer jeans topped by a casual shirt from the local mall topped by a jacket straight off the catwalks of France. If anything, Sharpay was an expert at layering in a way that showed she cared, but not overly much.

Her shoes were on the plain side but the shine of leather was obvious, as in black, short leather boots, the kind that went with anything. There was nothing too gaudy, nor too cheap about her outfit that day -- she was perfectly _Sharpay_ from head to toe. A balance of haute couture and that special_something_ that was all her own.

Ryan couldn't remember being prouder of her than on that morning, her first return to school after the accident. She sat in the back of the limo like a queen -- the driver Jack and Ryan, both her adoring servants. She spent most of the ride chatting on the phone to someone, Ryan wasn't sure who, but that didn't matter -- Sharpay's phone contacts were as disposable as a tissue -- but he basked in the glow of being with her, even if she didn't have time for small talk with him.

Maybe it was psychic knowledge, maybe it was just common sense but Jack made sure he pulled over a short distance from the school's front entrance, giving Sharpay enough room to maneuver from the car at her own pace, with only the help she needed from Ryan and the cane. Once she was up and walking, the cane was easily put away and Ryan was happy to see that she still held onto his arm, not from need -- only because she wanted to.

The school was oddly quiet that morning. There were no loiterers on the stairs, no stray students in the parking lot, nothing but Ryan and Sharpay walking up the stairs -- alone -- the rest of the campus eerily silent. Sharpay's hold on Ryan's arm tightened slightly but her chin was as high as it had ever been on any other day.

Taking a deep breath, Ryan pushed open the school's heavy front doors. They'd taken about two steps into the hall when ...

He wasn't sure but it looked like the entire cheerleading squad singing:

_Since you've been away_

_I've had loneliness inside_

_and I've had bugs eating my soul_

_cause I am that used to you being_

_there every day..._

A short verse, taken over by Gabriella and Troy ...

_I've felt inside a different person_

_We've missed you so much_

_I can't wait to see you again_

_Life has been different without seeing you once again._

And then ... the Wildcats, the geeks, the Drama Club, all kneeling down and singing to Sharpay ...

_I've learned more then you'll ever believe._

_I've felt inside like i'm a different person_

_I never knew without you I'd change_

_and feel different just thought_

_it'll always be the same so I say I've missed you _

Ryan wasn't sure how long they'd practiced the song but he knew it hadn't been done overnight, at least without his help. He couldn't help it; his eyes were tearing -- his heart breaking at every note even the ones that were hopelessly off-key. He didn't dare look at Sharpay, thinking he'd break down completely but he needn't have worried.

The song ended on a wavering note and Sharpay paused the perfect three beats before scoffing: "Amateurs."

She walked away at a clipped pace, dragging Ryan behind her and it was only when he heard the joyful cheer echoing off the walls and the odd cry of "_That's our Sharpay!"_ echoing off the walls did he realize that his sister had returned the East High in the only way she could ...

As the girl she was and always would be.

Except for the secret, trembling squeezes of her hand around his and the tears that lingered in the corners of her eyes that she refused to let fall.

0o0o0o

Lunch went the usual way -- Sharpay picking endlessly at the less savory bits while everyone else scarfed theirs down whole like Oliver Twist on a bad day.

No one avoided her, Ryan noted with relief. Well, no more than usual and it was almost fun to see Gabriella and Troy sit down across from them, trays held firmly in front of them, almost like shields. They nodded at her, almost as an afterthought before exchanging their milks, Troy's plain for Gabrielle's chocolate. "How's it going?" Troy asked between slurps on his straw.

"Is that _chocolate_ milk?" Sharpay asked in a tone of voice that might have suggested she'd been warning someone about a roach on their shoe.

Troy look at the container. "Um, yeah."

Sharpay simply made a face, but it was a face that said it all. She turned to Gabrielle, tucking her palms beneath her chin and giving the other girl a cat-like grin. "So, are we doing anything special this year? Like ... moving?"

"Shar ..." Ryan breathed, a warning in his voice.

Gabrielle didn't seem put out in the slightest. She mimicked Sharpay's pose and replied. "Not a moving truck in sight. Sorry."

"Drat." Sharpay made a face and took a sip of spring water. She glanced around, tilting her head in confusion at Chad and Martha, who were waltzing through the lunchroom, laughing at each other's multiple missteps. "What's up with Dancing with Losers over there?"

Troy looked up from his grilled cheese, half of which was already in his mouth. "I think they're practicing." He swallowed with effort. "The Harvest Dance is in a few weeks."

Ryan's throat tightened and he had to force the mouthful of water down, wincing as he saw the tiniest twitch in Sharpay's cheek. Her haughty attitude suddenly evaporated and it nearly broke Ryan's heart to see her face fall, her voice soften, suddenly sounding vulnerable ... hurt. "Oh." She shrugged and began to play aimlessly with her food. "They're not that bad, actually. Maybe you can give them a hand, Ryan."

Ryan shrugged, with a half-hearted attempt at a smile. "I think they can figure out how to count to four. Eventually." He nudged Sharpay, trying to get her to laugh, but it didn't work.

Gabrielle watched this exchange with a pained look in her eyes. "The Science Club is having a Trivia Contest next week," she said quickly, her face reddening when the other three turned to her with a quizzical look. She shrunk back in her seat. "If anyone wants to go, it's ... uh ... free."

If anything would bring Sharpay's sarcastic edge back, it would be that, Ryan thought. But she didn't respond, so Ryan prodded her. "Free, sis. I'm sure we can't miss that much fun," he prompted. "Right?"

"Don't be mean, Ryan," Sharpay sighed. Digging through her bag, she pulled out her cane, pulling to its full length with short, angry twists. With some effort, she rose from the lunch table's awkwardly attached bench, using the cane as leverage. "I'm heading back to class. See you guys later."

"Hold up, sis," Ryan called, running after her. He glanced back and saw both Troy and Gabrielle, the same crestfallen look lining both their faces. _It's not their fault_, he knew.

It wasn't anyone's fault ... it just was what it was. Bad luck, lousy fate -- he couldn't tell. It just sucked.

Maybe it was his imagination, but Sharpay's walk no longer seemed as confident as it did, Ryan noted, as she limped through East High's halls. She's probably tired, he thought, tucking her arm under his. She didn't protest, she just kept walking with painful-looking steps and he made sure to steer her clear of the posters that announced the coming Harvest Dance, arriving in just a few weeks time.

0o0o0o

tbc ...

Sorry for the length of time it took for this update. Some RL got in the way. They should be coming at a more regular clip for a while now.

Thanks to anyone who is still reading! I appreciate your comments. :-)


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Dance from the Heart - Chapter 7  
Rating: PG-13 Genre: Angst, Drama Characters: Mostly Sharpay and Ryan, the others show up on occasion.  
Disclaimer: I do not own High School Musical or these characters. I'm just playing around.  
Summary: An accident, a struggle and redemption.

0o0o0o

Sharpay's listless attitude continued until nightfall. She stared at the television, mindlessly clicking the remote. She'd taken her prosthetic off, claiming it was bothering her and Ryan tried not to stare at the discarded artificial limb, tossed aside like an unwanted article of clothing.

"Want to go to the movies?" Ryan asked, not mentioning how the channel-flipping was starting to drive him batty. "I hear there's a good comedy on over at the Plaza."

Sharpay shook her head. "No thanks. You can go if you want."

"Without you?" Why would I do that?"

"Because I don't feel like putting that _thing_ back on anymore today," she said, tossing the remote on the coffee table with an annoyed gesture. "So if you want to see a movie, go yourself."

"Shar ..."

"Ryan, please. I'm tired, okay? Between school and my doctor's appointment, I've had it."

Ryan shrugged. "You seemed okay in school today."

"I did?" Sharpay asked, her mouth suddenly twisting into an angry line. She turned to glare at Ryan, her eyes fiery. "Because I didn't feel okay today. How do you think it feels to know that we aren't going to be at the Harvest Dance this year because ... because ... of this ... stupid thing." Sharpay poked at her knee with a frustrated noise. The pitch of her voice rose in mocking imitation. "That they're all sitting around thinking, _oh, poor Sharpay, she can't dance anymore. Too bad, so sad, good for us! We can finally do something with our pathetic lack of talent!_

Wincing, Ryan stared down at his lap. "Who says you can't dance anymore?"

Her eyes widened with anger. "You just didn't say that, did you? Please tell me you didn't say that."

"I did." By god, he was shaking, but Ryan held his ground. "No one said you can't dance again. The doctors ..."

"The doctors!" she cried, enraged. "What do they know? How many hours, how many _years_ I've spent breaking my body in half to do what I do on the stage. How much pain I've endured to make it look like it's the easiest thing in the world. All they know is how to chop parts off and take away everything I've worked for because of some stupid accident. I can't do what I use to do, it's impossible. _You_ of all people should understand that!"

"I do understand," Ryan said firmly. He reached for her hand, grimacing when she slapped it away. "But I don't think it's impossible. Different, yes. Hard, sure. And yeah, you'll have to train again but there's no reason you can't dance. Remember what we kept telling ourselves when we were so exhausted, we thought we couldn't rehearse another minute? We said: if we can stand, we can dance."

"Oh, Ryan ..." Sharpay's anger turned to tears of frustration. "I can't, all right? I ... I just can't."

Ryan shifted on the couch, taking her face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away her tears. "Look, we can do this, you and me. We'll work together and make a new routine, something that works with your new ..." He paused, nodding over at the prosthetic leg. "Your new accessory," he finished helplessly.

Sharpay raised an eyebrow at him. "My new _accessory_? It's not a Gucci handbag, Ryan."

"Don't you want a challenge? Or do you want Chad and Martha ... no, wait, _Troy and Gabrielle_ to steal what's rightfully ours," Ryan added slyly. He leaned back with feigned nonchalance. "If you want to sit around and watch while they take the Harvest crowns, I mean, that's your business ..."

"Steal what's rightfully _mine_," Sharpay muttered.

"What?"

"Never mind," Sharpay whispered. She threw herself back against the couch, sighing. "I'm sorry, Ry. But I'm not ready for anything like that. I've just learned to walk and that took long enough. If you want to get a new partner ..."

Ryan could feel his mouth drop open. He stared at Sharpay, shocked, as if she'd just starting speaking in tongues. "There's no other partner for me. If you don't want to dance, then I don't either."

His sister's eyes grew bright. "You're such a liar. You want to dance."

"Only with you," Ryan proclaimed, sliding down and snuggling against her shoulder, gratified when she snuggled back. "But I think you're making a mistake. You're stronger than you know, Shar."

"I know my limits," Sharpay replied quietly. She picked up her folded cane and held it up for him to see. "This is the line drawn in the sand. The line I can't cross."

Ryan wasn't sure if he believed her but said nothing. He simply curled in closer, breathing in her warmth. There were other ways to convince her, ways more powerful than words. He simply had to have the courage to lead, something he wasn't used to doing.

But once he started, he knew ... he just _knew_ she wouldn't only follow.

She'd shine again.

0o0o0o

Their parents had built the in-home dance studio as a thirteenth birthday present for both of them. It was state-of-the-art, at least for back then, with wall-to-ceiling mirrors on one side and a beautiful pine floor covering a few hundred square feet of open space. Included was a sound system most professionals would envy and oh, the hours they spent in there -- dancing, arguing and laughing as they practiced their moves until their souls bled.

They'd hired teachers a few times, but eventually Ryan had become a canny enough choreographer, learning the mechanics of almost any move in minutes. Most of their routines had been his creations, their intricate patterns easily absorbed by Sharpay's eerie ability to appreciate her brother's direction and expand on it; her willingness to make every move her own.

Sharpay hadn't entered the room since her return from the hospital. What was the point? It's not like she'd fly over the floor again the way she used to, like a bird cradled in Ryan's arms. The glittering dresses she once loved looked garish and far too short; too short to hide her horrible imperfection, the ugly straps and hard plastic of her prosthetic as well as the scars that still could be seen above the cup that held what was left of her leg.

Sharpay stared into the huge mirror, hating what she saw.

Stupid leg, stupid cane, stupid everything. She felt graceless and lost, a part of her was hopelessly incomplete and why did this have to happen to her? Why? What had she done to deserve this? It was so unfair and ridiculous and she was just about to curse aloud when she remembered Marnie.

Marnie. First they took one leg, then the other. She was a college student, bright and beautiful, with long brown hair and a gentle smile, like Ryan's. Caught some disease while away at university and there was nothing left to do except watch and wait as she got sick, then well, then devastatingly sick again.

Sharpay bit her lip at the memory. Marnie had been so kind to Sharpay, so strong and she _understood_ the pain, possibly like no one else could. And when she knew the end was near ...

Asked Sharpay to look after her little violet plant, the one thing she was strong enough to care for.

Marnie was twenty-three when she died.

When the therapists told her that Marnie was gone, Sharpay couldn't find the strength to cry. And now here she was, alive and well enough while Marnie was dead and a wash of shame overwhelmed Sharpay. What the hell was she complaining about?

At least she wasn't in the grave.

Except ... except ... god, this awful leg. She slid up her pants' leg, wincing at her reflection in the mirror. "It's so ugly," she moaned, not expecting anyone to reply.

"You just need a new outfit, sis," Ryan said, tilted his head in the door. He'd obviously had been standing there for some time. He held up something long, blue and glittering. A dress, a gorgeous new dress and his smile was broad and contagious. "What do you think?"

Sharpay let the pants leg fall. Glanced over the dress and shrugged. "The color is okay, I guess."

Ryan sidled up to her. "Want to try it on?" He held up against her for effect. "Mmm?"

She examined it critically. It _was_ sort of fabulous. "I guess. _Just_ to try on, nothing else," Sharpay warned, snatching the hanger from his hand.

There was a changing screen in the back of the studio and it wasn't too hard to slip the dress on, shimmying into its sparkly goodness. Sharpay bit her lip with glee, she suddenly felt alive again, beautiful and shiny. Shyly, she emerged from behind the screen, watching Ryan's face light up, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

It was terribly long, but it hid the prosthetic very well. Not that she'd be able to dance again, but ...

"The foxtrot is coming back, you know," Ryan proclaimed, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He glanced at her from beneath the brim of his hat. "A few modern ballroom moves will make those losers swallow their Bubble Yum, if you ask me."

Sharpay examined herself in the mirror, suddenly liking what she saw. "Ballroom, huh?" She struck a slightly wobbly pose, nearly falling over, but Ryan was there to catch her. She couldn't help but chuckle. "I mean, if we screw up the traditional steps, it's not like anyone would ever know."

"Who says we're going to screw up?" Ryan's reflection asked, his chin resting on her shoulder. "Come on, sis. Let's do this thing. You know you want to."

A chill slid down her spine. "I'm scared, Ryan."

Solemnly, he kissed her cheek. "Don't be. You're going to kick ass. I promise."

"This is ridiculous," she breathed, but somewhere, in the back of her mind, she heard Marnie's voice. _Don't give up your dreams. Don't you dare_. "You really think ...?"

"I really think we can."

He led her to the bar, curling her fingers against the dull, powdered surface. Turned the stereo on and the jazzy notes of _"Anything Goes"_ filled the air. Ryan grinned at Sharpay from across the room, sliding over the floor with classic foxtrot steps.

Sharpay took a deep, cleansing breath. Maybe just a couple of moves, there was no one there to see if she messed up. Her fingers unconsciously tightened around the bar. "All right, but you have to go slow."

Ryan bowed to her. "As you wish."

She smacked him on the back of the head. Lightly. "And don't complicate the downbeat."

"I don't do that."

She placed herself within his arms, her entire body shaking. At least ... at least she was alive. Marnie would be proud. "Okay," she said softly. "Let's dance."

0o0o0o

tbc ...

**A/N: It would be a shame to let this go unfinished. It's not that far from the end. Thanks too Google Docs for letting me organize this again. Reviews are always welcome.**


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